'That is the Edge--,' Dolores was not sure of the word Edgeworthian, so
she went on to 'system. Professor Sefton says he does not approve of
harassing children with cramming them with irregular information at all
sorts of times. Let play be play and lessons be lessons, he says, not
mixed up together, and so Rex and Maude never learnt anything--not a
letter--till they were seven years old.'

'How stupid!' cried Mysie.

'Maude's not stupid!' cried Dolores, 'nor the professor either! She's
my great friend.'

'I didn't say she was stupid,' said Mysie, apologetically, 'only that
it must be very stupid not to be able to read till one was seven.
Could you?'

'Oh, yes. I can't remember when I couldn't read. But Maude used to
play with a little girl who could read and talk French at five years
old, and she died of water upon her brain.'

'Dear me! Primrose can read quite well,' said Mysie, somewhat alarmed;
'but then,' she went on in a reassured voice, 'so could all of us
except Jasper and Gillian, and they felt the heat so much at Gibraltar
that they were quite stupid while they were there.'

This discussion brought the two girls across the paddock out into a
road with a broad, neat footpath, where numerous little children were
being exercised with nurses and perambulators. At first it was
bordered by fields on either side, but villas soon began to spring up,